


Send a Little Love My Way

by ava_jamison



Category: Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, Lois Lane (Comics), Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 05:19:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12624120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ava_jamison/pseuds/ava_jamison
Summary: Lois and Clark are both on separate assignments, but they do try to stay in touch.





	Send a Little Love My Way

Motor purring, Lois revved the sleek convertible and it sped forward, a blur of shimmering red gliding across dark asphalt half-obscured by blowing desert grit. Behind the coupe, sand spit in the car’s wake glittered against a darkening sky. Ahead, the setting sun, huge and hazy, limned the outline of the city on the horizon, tinting the world amber with its last rays of light. Her phone jangled and she picked up. 

“Clark! Good to hear your voice.”

“You too.”

“Today any better, babe?”

“Well, yesterday already, here, for me—but yes. Spent it with the agriculture detail, teaching grape trellising. Should up local production by fifty percent.” 

“That’s great! You sound better. I’m sorry about the kid—

“He lost his eye. They couldn’t save it. I couldn’t save—”

“I’m sorry, Clark.” 

“Knew there’d be—things come with this assignment.”

“The team you’re with must be doing a lot of good—”

“It’s still war, Lois.”

“It’s got to be hard…” Lois didn’t finish her thought—that she was proud of him—that had just been something to argue about last time they’d talked. She didn’t tell him again that she got it, a small part of what he was going through— the death and the violence and the fog of war and the way it had to be so wrenching, especially for him, to see so much; feel so much and be able to do so little. Even Superman couldn’t stop war. 

He knew that though, so instead of saying it, she flicked on the cruise control to keep the car at seventy-five and tried to think of something to distract him from the week’s grim statistics. “Picking up any ag tips, Farmboy?”

“Irrigation’s come a long way since what Pa used to have, that’s for sure.”

“I guess in some ways, farming in Kansas isn’t so different from farming in Afghanistan.”

“Some ways. You on speaker phone?”

“Uh huh.”

“Can you hold it up to your ear?”

“Um… sure. Wait, I’m driving, though.”

“Don’t, then! Be safe—”

“No, I got it. Why’d you want me to hold it—?”

“Just sounds nicer—closer. You sound closer.”

“I miss you.”

“Miss you, too.” 

“One more week?”

“It’s what I signed up for.” 

She heard it in his voice, the way even now he must be second-guessing himself, hoping that he’d made the best decision, worried he was letting the world down by committing himself, even after—the argument had been long and painful before he left. Not the argument between the two of them—the argument between himself and his alter-ego, his job and his calling, reporting a story and trying to be all things to all people. She’d watched him work it out when he got offered the assignment: the pull between being Clark Kent and being Superman. He’d decided, as usual, to try his best to do both, but him having to go through it? She almost wished for those innocent days when she thought he was two different men.

His soft, deep voice interrupted her train of thought. “Tell me what you’re working on, Lane.”

She started to tell him about her day: the frustrations with the story, the last-minute car rental that was her only chance to follow a last-minute lead—but something in his voice made her stop. He was still trying to get over yesterday—the young soldier hit by shrapnel that Superman, somehow, couldn’t save. Just like all the other people—locals and soldiers both, who were falling every day on the other side of the world. All the tragedies everywhere, tragedies one man couldn’t stop, not even him. So she just said, “Same thing—that Intratechnicom story. They’re in bed with the Senator. I’m meeting a former aide in Albuquerque—”

“Driving?”

“Yeah. Flew to Santa Fe to grab some documents, then got this lead so I rented a car and—”

“What time is it there?”

“Seven twenty—at night—p.m. I’m meeting the guy at eight.”

“You staying over? I don’t like you on the highway too late—not after you’ve been working all day.”

“I'll be okay. Got reservations at the Hilton—I’m meeting him in the Hilton Bar. What time is it for you?”

“Time to see you—”

“Wish we could, big guy. Even if you could get away, I’ve got to meet my contact—”

“I know. And I’m committed, here.” He didn’t add the part about other emergencies, when he could fit them in around the story. 

“Where are you?”

“It’s a secure line, but I’m really not supposed to—it’s still classified.”

“No, I mean—”

“Oh! In my tent. They gave me my own so I could type up my notes.”

She turned on her headlights, beams casting golden light out into the darkening nightfall. “You’re a good man, Kent. It’s an important story.”

“Hope so.” He sighed. “Not the only reporter here, and this isn’t the only initiative.”

“But you’re the only reporter embedded with this team.”

It was a conversation they’d had before. He made some kind of affirmative sound in response.

“So you’re the one who’ll tell this story.”

“Yeah. Guess I should let you go, Lois. Probably isn’t all that safe to talk and drive.”

“There’s not much traffic out here. I’m okay for another few. Can’t sleep, huh?”

“Got to be at a briefing in an hour anyway.”

“What do you want to talk—hey, it must be about what? 4:30 in the morning there, right?”

“Close.”

“Special time…”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “Not without you here, though. Or me, there. ”

“Really? Think we can’t—you know, connect a little over the phone? 

“Lois, we shouldn’t.”

“It’d make me feel… closer to you, Clark. Maybe you’d like it. Try me, just for a minute?”

“Lois…”

“Come on, boy scout! Do something a little edgy.”

“We’ve never done that, Lois.”

“So?”

“I don’t even know—” he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I don’t even know if I know how.” 

“Oh, I bet you can figure it out, big guy.” It wasn’t like he really wanted to get off the phone, so she pushed a little harder. “I dare you…” She let that hang in the air, picturing his big, masculine hand cradling his phone, closing his eyes while he took a breath—and upped the ante. “I think it’d be hot.”

There was a long pause at the other end of the line. Then finally, “So, um—” Clark cleared his throat and his voice dropped—both in volume and in octave—to something lower, sexier. “What are you wearing?”

Lois blinked, a slow smile curving her mouth. This was definitely new. “Say it again.”

“Wh—”

“You broke up a little there.”

“Now you’re just teasing.”

“What if I am?”

“I miss you so much, Lois. Can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I’ll talk you through it, Smallville.”

“No, Lois…”

“Clark, even if you could come… see me right now, it wouldn’t work.” She checked the clock on the dash. “I’ve got to get to my meeting with my contact—but in the meantime… ” 

“No, Lois. I shouldn’t have—”

“What, called me? I’m glad you—what are you wearing? ”

“Lois, I—”

“I could be wearing that little chemise.”

“Chemise?”

“Slip—nightie.”

She heard him swallow on the other end of the line. Nothing for a minute, then… he bit. “Which one?”

“The black one.”

“Short or long?”

“Short. The one you like because it just comes to the edge of my butt—just barely covers it.”

“Yeah?” He swallowed again.

“And shoes.”

“Which shoes?”

“New ones. They’re—I got them just for you, babe.”

“Really?” 

“For when you come home. But I miss you so much tonight I could put them on and—”

“What do they look like?”

“Nope. Your turn,” She studied the road sign for a split second. Not her exit yet. “What are you wearing? ”

“Um… not too sexy. I’m in my boxers.”

“Are you kidding? Nobody fills out a pair of boxers like you, Clark.”

She could almost see his eye roll as he teased her back with just one word. “Lois…”

“You’re in your tent… are you what—on a cot?”

“Yeah.”

“Sitting or lying down?”

“Sitting on the edge.”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“No, I’m…”

“Do it.”

“I don’t know Lois, maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

“I’ll tell you about the shoes…”

Silence.

“Are you?”

“Um… ”

“They’re little red slippers with skinny high heels. I just slip into them. The only thing that holds them on my foot is a little marabou band across—” 

“Marabou?”

“You know, those little fluffy feathers. Red ones. Like… like tacky little Frederick’s of Hollywood bedroom slippers.”

“Oh…”

“Lay back on your cot and take that gorgeous big, beautiful di—I mean, cock—” The dirtier she got the hotter he always did—“out.”

“Lois, I—”

“Won’t keep talking unless you do it.”

“You drive a hard bargain, lady.”

“Just now figuring that out, Kent?” She grinned, then let her tone get pushy again. “Do it.”

“Okay.” Clark’s voice was shy… like he could be the guy she met—what? How many years ago at the Daily Planet? That very first time... all blushes and stammers and throat clearing ‘yes ma’ams’…

“Are you?”

The sound was just audible. “I am.”

“How does it feel, big guy?”

“I wish… I wish it was you.”

“Wish it was me doing what?”

“Wish it was—your hand.”

“Oh, me too, Clark. I love having you in my hand. Feeling that big cock get hard for me—you hard, babe? ”

“Yes.” It was just the barest whisper. 

“It turns me on so much, Clark. You’re so big and hard and—” She had to take a breath and swallow—let him hear it. “I’m getting really turned on now, too, Clark.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, babe. I might have to pull over and just—”

“You can’t, Lois.”

“What?”

“You’re out on the highway at night all alone—it might not be safe—”

“Don’t worry, babe. I won’t. But jeez, Clark. My panties are getting wet.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah—really wet. I’m getting all... hot and bothered, Clark.” Lois took a deep breath—twelve miles to go—and started laying on the harder stuff. “It’s going… it’s going straight through me, Clark.”

“Me too.”

“Straight to my clit. ”

Deep intake of air on his end. “Oh, Lois.”

“Not too fast, baby.” She pictured his hand, gliding up and down his shaft. “I wish I was with you right now, Clark. If you were here with me?”

“Uh huh?” His breath was shallow and she had to shake her own head to clear it. To clear both the actual, very compelling visual on the other end of the line and the image of her husband doing exactly what she told him, getting turned on just from the power of her voice—the way she talked, the way he loved her.

“Go slow, Clark. I want to tell you something. If you were here right now? You could smell how much I want you. ”

Clark made a little strangled noise in the back of his throat.

“Yeah. Exactly how hot I was, Smallville. You’d look at me—you’d be sitting right here next to me, your hair blowing in the breeze and even through all the other scents in the desert—the ones you can smell outside your tent right now—you’d know mine. The one I get when I want you so bad I can’t even stand it, Clark.”

“And then,” Clark’s chest rumbled as he cleared the huskiness from his voice. “Then what would we do?”

“You’d look at me—look at me behind the wheel,” Lois glanced down at her suit—a tailored white top and navy silk skirt. “I’m wearing… I’m wearing a halter top—my breasts—my tits are spilling out of it. I don’t have a bra on and there’s… there’s a bead of sweat running down my skin, tracing down from my collarbone and you’re watching it—you know how bad I want you and you just… you just smile at me. It’s that sexy, kind of secret smile you give me when you’re using your powers and they’re telling you things—”

“What things?”

“Sexy things other people wouldn’t know. And you…you pretend to stretch. Your big warm arm comes to rest behind my shoulders. You lean forward slowly, still with that smile and I don’t even know what you’re going to do but you keep getting closer and the drop of moisture runs down between my cleavage and your tongue darts out, mouth diving between my breasts to taste it.”

“Don’t… don’t stop.”

“You’re lips are on me, all needy and hot and you groan against my skin as you lick the trail of sweat—”

“God, Lois… ”

“And I have to pull over, Clark. Have to. And then you’re just on me, baby—like you can’t help yourself—anybody could come along but we don’t care—we don’t! We can’t help ourselves.” Lois eyed herself in the rear-view mirror, face flushed. “You still touching yourself?”

“Can’t stop,” he whispered back.

“Do it slower. Slower and harder.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my hand now, Clark. You’ve pushed up my skirt—just shoved it up so you can get to me and I’ve opened your fly and remember… remember that time we slipped away during Bruce’s New Year’s party?”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “You were—that was—”

“Mmm. I know. It’s like that. We just want each other.” The sign ahead said four miles to her exit. Better wind this up. She pushed a hand through her hair. “And now I’ve got you, Clark. Got your big, hard cock—Clark I love your cock so much and you’re so big and so hard and I just squeeze you, baby… ”

“Oh…”

“And I tell you to lie down on the seat.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Clark. And you do—you’re a little surprised but you do—all six feet three inches and two hundred twenty-five pounds of perfect man—”

“Lois… ” she knew he was blushing now.

“And I climb on top of you—climb up you and kiss you and I can’t not moan into your mouth… but then I pull away.”

“No!”

“Yes. Because you want—”

His voice was a rasping hiss. “What do I want?”

“You grab my hips and urge me up, Clark. And I know what you want so I do it. I take off your glasses…”

“Yeah…”

“I climb up—wriggle higher. Just climb up your body, Clark. Until I can straddle your face, baby.”

“Oh.”

“I turn around so I can keep riding you and keep my hand on that beautiful cock of yours—face it while I stroke up and down—so slick—you’re slick now, aren’t you? You’re slicking my hand.” 

“Lois, I’m so close. ”

She took the exit ramp. The Hilton was visible from here. “I cup your big, heavy balls with my other hand and squeeze and I’m riding you, Clark. Your mouth’s on my clit, sucking and tonguing and I’m pulling you off—cradling your balls and stroking you and…”

“Lois, I’m about to…”

“Don’t come yet, baby. You hold that big cock and you hold off, you hear me?”

All she got was a groan for an answer.

“I come, hard. You make me come so hard I scream, my thighs clenching around your head—”

“Lois, oh, Lois—I can’t wait—”

“And I bend forward, licking my lips. I’m pumping you and there’s a big bead of come right at your tip and I lean forward to lick it, to taste you.”

“Lois… I’m—”

“I wrap my lips around you…”

“Oh…” he moaned, a low, heavy croon she knew very well. One that made her entire body thrill in sympathetic waves of lust.

“Clark?” She smiled, pulling into the parking lot. “Did you just—” She had to ask, even though the sound—his sound—was unmistakable. “Did you just come on my face?”

On the other end of the line, Clark swallowed, clearing his throat for what must have been the tenth time this phone call. “Sorry, Lois.” 

“’S okay, big guy. I’ll let you make it up to me next time.” She parked the convertible, checked her hair and face in the mirror—not too obvious. Nobody had to know that she was momentarily a little weak in the knees because she'd just talked her husband off. “Got me all worked up, though. I need some alone time and here I am at my rendezvous.”

“Pretty sexy word choice, reporter.” 

“Rendezvous?” She laughed. “Sorry, just worked myself into a mood.”

“Hope,” he said, breathing returning to normal, “your contact’s not good-looking.” 

“Hey, handsome—he couldn’t compete with you.” She sighed, grinning as she slammed her car door behind her. “Look, I've got to go.” It was just a few steps to the hotel lobby.

“You’re not really in a halter top, are you?”

“No, babe. Dressed for work. Got a bra on, even.”

“I love you, Lois.”

“Love you too, Clark.”

“Think about me tonight. When you’re… alone.”

Lois paused; hand on the lobby door, squaring her shoulders for her interview. “Not to worry, Clark. I always do.”


End file.
